


Open Road

by OhNoHello



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ashe Big Bang (Fire Emblem), Diners, Flirting, M/M, Motorcycle Sex, Motorcycles, Sexual Tension, Threesome - M/M/M, thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29318307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoHello/pseuds/OhNoHello
Summary: Lonato’s All Night Diner sat smack dab in the middle of a lonely stretch of highway. It wasn’t an attraction, it wasn’t a favorite restaurant, it was food for travellers who were half way into the desert and still had a long way to go. The Gaspard garage and gas station was attached to the diner’s hip, a run down lonely motel just within view. An oasis for truck drivers, travellers, and little families who gotverylost.A lonely place for lonely people._____Ashe works in a pathetic little diner at a road stop in the middle of the desert. He has no plans for his life and doesn't see it going anywhere any time soon.Until two bikers drive directly into his little corner of the world.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Dedue Molinaro, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 12
Kudos: 76





	Open Road

**Author's Note:**

> For the Ashe Big Bang! [With fantastic artwork from @ibchigo](https://twitter.com/ibchigo/status/1359328035426639872?s=19) 💕
> 
> Yeah so . . . this is just a 17K thirst fic. Thats all it is. Thirsty Ashe all the way down. Yup.

Lonato’s All Night Diner sat smack dab in the middle of a lonely stretch of highway. It wasn’t an attraction, it wasn’t a favorite restaurant, it was food for travellers who were half way into the desert and still had a long way to go. The Gaspard garage and gas station was attached to the diner’s hip, a run down lonely motel just within view. An oasis for truck drivers, travellers, and little families who got _very_ lost. 

A lonely place for lonely people. 

Ashe leaned against his palms and watched the empty road. So far that day he had counted a grand total of 15 cars. It was a busy day. An elderly couple sat in one of the booths like a pair of salt and pepper shakers, chit chatting over a crossword puzzle in the newspaper. Ingrid, a long haul trucker that was familiar to the route, sat prim and proper at her usual stool. Gilbert, another trucker, was asleep in the parking lot. 

The kitchen behind him was quiet. Everyone worked double duty in the diner. Mercedes made excellent sweets and cakes that quietly died in the display cases, but she still made them every day. Annette had been initially hired on as waitstaff, but demanded that she at least help in the kitchen. 

Ashe typically took over whatever monstrosity she had created. 

The hours were long and the staff was short and Ashe was thankful for the standing room he had at the motel. Sometimes he went back home to his apartment in the boonies, but the hour plus commute was simply too much to bear on a daily basis. 

Ashe closed his eyes. He dreamed again. Of how nice it would be to move away, to leave his home town and go into the city. He had taken the closest available job as a cook that he could find and found the one no one wanted. 

One day he’d leave and work where his talents were put to good use. 

Until then, he’d have to grin and bear the little diner on the side of the road. 

Ashe was two seconds from stepping outside and heading to the garage when the roaring sounds of animalistic engines cut through the silent day. In the hazy distance, he could see them. Two black pin pricks coming up fast over the flat expanse of highway. They seemed stationary until they got closer and proved to be veritable bullets. 

Two cruiser motorcycles came roaring down the road. Ashe lifted his head, ready to watch them fly by in hopes of being able to identify the make and model. 

Instead they turned. They pulled into the parking lot. They slid into a spot just outside the diner. 

Ashe stood up a little straighter. 

The larger of the two sat back on Triumph Rocket, a dark shade of blue complete with chrome detailing. Ashe couldn’t help but stare at the triple exhaust manifold and wondered just how fast that thing could go when fully let loose on the open road. 

The smaller of the two, who was only smaller next to his travelling companion, swung a leg off his Ducati Multistrada. A pure matte black, it was a huge bike, but Ashe knew that it could take corners like a sport and probably outpace the Triumph of his friend. It was an expensive precision machine and only made for the truly wealthy. 

Then they took their helmets off. Ashe breathed in slow and deep and tried to remember manners. 

Now sure would be a good time to get that bit of fresh air. 

“Hey take over for me,” Annette said, pulling her apron over her head. 

“What? Why?” Ashe asked. 

She gave him a strange look. 

“I’m going to go wake up father?” she said slowly. “So that we can have lunch. . .? Like we normally do. Are you feeling alright?” 

Ashe glanced at the two bikers as they swaggered towards the diner. The bigger of the two was dark skinned, pale hair buzzed in an undercut while the rest was pulled up high. He had a gentle face with kind eyes and Ashe was not thinking about how soft and kissable his lips looked. The other was a broad shouldered blonde. He wore an eyepatch which made his ability to drive that Ducati all the more impressive. Ashe watched carefully as he peeled off riding gloves and didn’t know if he wanted the biker to keep them on or not. 

His hands were calloused. So he liked to get dirty. 

“I’m fine,” he said, not taking his eyes away from the two bikers. 

Ashe shook his head, closed his eyes, and took another deep breath. Steeling himself as the two bikers stepped inside. 

Annette danced around the counter with lunch in a take away container. She smiled at the bikers as if there was nothing wrong. 

“Feel free to sit anywhere,” she said in her most customer service voice. “Theres menus at each table.” 

“Thank you,” the larger one said with a nod and Ashe tried not to reel from how deep it was. 

Ashe didn’t realize he was staring until they were both seated, menus pulled from their place holders, and finally the blonde looked up. As if he had felt the stare he was under. His single clear eye was a crystal shade of blue that matched the open sky and it was aimed right at Ashe. 

Ashe quickly made himself busy. He checked on Ingrid. He gave the elderly couple their check and took his sweet time processing the payment. He checked on Ingrid again and she barked at him that she was fine. For good measure, he went into the kitchen to see if Mercedes needed any help. 

When all other options were exhausted, he had no choice left but to deal with the new customers. 

They weren’t impatient, there was no anger from the delay. They were talking amicably in quiet tones about something, both of them looking out at the flat vista through the open window. 

Ashe eyed the motorcycles parked outside. Fine tuned machines. Both of them should have been in some rich garage, where they could be kept clean and pristine, but they were coated in a fine layer of dust and dirt. The Triumph’s logo had faded and there was an unsightly scratch along the body of the Ducati. 

Used and traveled and well worn. 

Ashe swallowed and approached. 

“Hi,” he said and his voice cracked. Both bikers turned quickly at his too loud and sudden appearance. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Hi. How might I serve– HELP. Help you. How might I help. . . what would you like to eat?”

Ashe wasn’t sure how long he could survive under their unwavering attention, but the big one clicked his tongue and picked up his discarded menu, looking it over one more time. The blonde laughed. 

“They don’t have a salad, Dedue,” he said. 

“It says here they do,” the big one, Dedue, said. 

“Its. . . its not really a salad,” Ashe interjected. “Its more like a bit of lettuce next to a burger.” 

Dedue looked up at him, stone faced and unreadable and paralyzing Ashe with some sort of fear. He smiled apologetically. 

“We have to order the cucumbers, they come in on a truck. I wouldn’t,” he said. 

Dedue sighed and went over the menu again, trying to find something. 

“We do have a veggie burger?” Ashe asked, his voice pitching up in question and letting Dedue know that wasn’t much of an option either. 

“Two burgers with fries,” the blonde ordered for both of them, holding up two fingers. 

“Two burgers with fries, got it,” Ashe said, jotting the order down in shorthand, even though he’d probably be the one to make it. “I’ll get that right up.” 

Without a second glance, he tried to walk away. The blonde leaned out of the booth, quietly watching him go. 

“And a shake,” he said. 

Ashe stopped and turned around. The blonde smiled pleasantly, but something about it unnerved Ashe. Worse than he already was. 

“W-what flavor?” Ashe asked. 

The blonde’s smile was sinisterly dashing, his crystal blue eye piercing through Ashe like a lance.

“Strawberry.” 

Ashe swallowed and retreated to the kitchen.

____

Whatever fugue state Ashe had suffered earlier had left him with a shameful taste in his mouth. Being out in the middle of nowhere for the last who knew how long had affected Ashe. He hadn’t gone out with anyone in an embarrassingly long amount of time, let alone getting laid. Spending weeks alone in his little motel room left him with far too much time with his own imagination. When he wasn’t nose deep in some book or busying himself in the kitchen or the shop, loneliness would grip him with an iron fist. 

That had to be it. Why two beautiful bikers showed up Ashe fell into a spiral of instant infatuation.That was all that had been. 

He blamed the motorcycles. 

The afternoon doldrums rolled around. The sparse amount of cars died down to nothing. Annette came back and relieved Ashe of his duties, so he did what he always did. 

He slipped off to the Gaspard Garage. To where his treasure lay. 

The Harley-Davidson V-Rod Muscle was propped up on the lift, balanced securely in the air so Ashe could get at the drum brakes. He had pulled off the back wheel and was crouched behind the bike. 

The motorcycle wasn’t something that went with him, perse. It wasn’t a match. No one would look at him with his slight frame and quick movements and think ‘cruiser hog.’ 

It was more about tradition. About culture. It spoke to where he came from, to his origins. His father rode one, his brother rode one, and so Ashe rode a Harley-Davidson. 

Ashe was on his back, gently tapping on the drum brake to separate it from the dust cover. It was sticking and he’d been going at it for a few minutes now. He rubbed at his forehead. 

“You got a dust crown again,” Christophe said as he walked by. “You still going at that?” 

“Its stuck,” Ashe said, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “I think the shoes are pressing up against it.” 

“Did you try heat?” 

Ashe looked up at his brother with wide eyes. He scanned away from him thinking. 

“Could you get me the blow torch?” he asked. 

Christophe chuckled and leaned down to muss up Ashe’s hair. Ashe flailed and the creeper he lay on veered left. 

“Hey!” he said, swatting Christophe’s hand away. “You’re getting grease in my hair!” 

“It matches your dust crown.” Christophe grinned. 

“Excuse me.” 

The two brothers looked up to the figure standing in the door. Ashe instantly felt his face heat. 

Silhouetted by the sun stood the form of a tall man, wheeling his Ducati through the open door of the garage. Even without fine details, Ashe instantly recognized the handsome blonde from Lonato’s. He had taken his jacket off and the shape of a tucked in shirt into tight fitting jeans accented his body nicely. 

And Ashe was on his back, on a creeper, with grease hair and a dust crown. The increasing red in his face wasn't helping matters either. 

Even shadowed by the afternoon sunlight, Ashe could make out the stranger's smile. Aimed right at him. 

"Yeah, hi, can I help you?" Christophe asked, running a rag over his hands. 

Ashe could feel the stranger's stare and his calm, amused smile. Ashe wriggled, his creeper creaking as it slid back and forth. The stranger focused on Christophe. 

"I had a spill a while back," he said. "And there's some body damage. I was wondering if you might be able to fix that?" 

Christophe went to the motorcycle's side and inspected the deep scratch in the fuel tank's cover. He ran his hand over it. 

"Yeah I should be able to take care of that for you," he said "Looks like you got a puncture too."

"That explains a lot," the stranger laughed. "Would you be able to do a full tune up?" 

Christophe's brows rose. He leaned over to the side, hands on his hips, and inspected the fine tuned machine. 

"Yeah," he said, drawing the word out. "Might take a day or two. I'd need to order some parts." 

"That's okay," the stranger said, passing his prized bike to Christophe. "We got a room at the motel. And besides. It's about that time." 

Ever honest Christophe smiled at the motorcyclist, not wanting to rip him off. The last garage running that made sure their customers got their money's worth. He shrugged and took the Ducati off the blonde's hands. 

"Let me go draw up the paperwork," Christophe said.

That should have been it. The blonde should have followed Christophe to his office and Ashe could be left alone to deal with his nerves. But instead, that clean blue eye fixated once again on Ashe and it was only then that Ashe realized he was staring. He abruptly refocused on his Harley, only two realize he needed a blow torch. He went back to futilely tapping the drum brake in an attempt to look busy. Or to desperately ignore the click of boots across concrete as the biker drew near. 

"I didn't get a chance to thank you." 

"Huh!? What?" Ashe asked, jolting in place. He dropped his wrench and it clanged as it danced across the ground. 

The biker stood tall over him, like a giant, like a god. He smiled, gentle and amused, at the smudged man at his feet. 

"For lunch," he said. "I saw that you made our meal as well as served it." 

"Oh!" Ashe said and hated the way his voice cracked. "Oh, well, yes."

In a feeble attempt to maintain some dignity, Ashe sat up on his creeper. It wiggled back and forth, but he managed to keep his feet firmly on the ground to keep it in place. 

"We're kind of short staffed so kitchen staff sometimes does service," he explained. 

"So you're a cook," the biker said. 

"Uh well yes." Ashe blushed. "It's kind of what I was hired to do. I know it's not the most high end of jobs." 

"On the contrary, I find working in a place like this fascinating." The biker took a step forward, standing in-between Ashe's splayed legs and forcing Ashe to tilt his head back. 

Ashe swallowed. 

"And you work here as well?" he asked. 

"No," Christophe called across the room before Ashe could answer. "I would never let him." 

Ashe tried to frown at his brother, but it was hard to look away from the captivating blonde.

"So what's this then?" the blonde asked, gesturing to the Harley. There was laughter under his breath that Ashe could've swam in. 

"It's my. . .," Ashe stuttered, looking over his half taken apart, far less impressive motorcycle. "My. . . um." 

"It's his," Christophe helped. "It's, what did you call it? 'Travel the world' motorcycle?" 

Ashe could stare in betrayal at his brother. To display his old, decrepit motorcycle with dreams of doing the very thing this golden titan before him was doing. 

The stranger's smile widened. 

"So you ride then?" 

The way he purred the question was the same quality he asked for that last minute milkshake. As if saw right through Ashe and was asking an entirely different question. And didn’t Ashe want to pick that question apart right then and there. Especially when it looked so good in a leather jacket and blue jeans. 

“I. . . I suppose,” Ashe said. 

“He does,” Christophe oh so helpfully chimed in _again_. 

Ashe finally found it within him to shoot him a quick frown and only got an amused smile back. Brows high and mouth thin, like he knew _exactly_ what was going on with his little brother. He turned with the blonde’s bike, leaving them alone at Ashe’s silent insistence. 

Ashe didn’t know if that was worse. 

The blonde crouched down to be at Ashe’s eye level and Ashe decided that it was so much worse. He could hear the leather creak and the curves of powerful legs became more defined. Ashe’s eyes darted over the body and he scooted backwards out of reflex, his creeper sliding uncontrollably. He held his wrench to his chest in feeble protection. 

“You want to see the world?” the blonde asked. 

Ashe nodded, unable to speak. 

“Why don’t you?” 

“Its. . .” Ashe glanced over to his motorcycle, ancient and disassembled. “Its not ready yet.” 

The blonde’s cool eye mimicked Ashe, taking in the exposed drum and weathered seat, the fresh tires and dust cover that would never be clean. He smiled as he took it all in and the smile only grew as he took in Ashe. 

“It looks ready to me,” he said. 

Ashe swallowed again and nothing went down. 

“Dimitri,” the blonde said, holding out his hand. “And my rather stoic friend is Dedue.” 

“I-I know,” Ashe said. “It was on your credit card.” 

Dimtri’s brows rose at that. He still held out his hand. 

“Well unfortunately I had no credit card to snoop,” he said. “You are?” 

“Oh! Oh Ashe.” Ashe shoved his hand into Dimitri’s. It was warmed from the riding gloves he wore. “My name is Ashe.” 

“Ashe,” Dimitri said, trying it out. “I would love to tell you about the world.” 

Dimitri didn’t so much shake Ashe’s hand as he just held it. He ran his thumb up and down Ashe’s knuckles, smearing the oil there, and dirtying his own hand. He seemed like he was used to it. 

“Y-your paperwork,” Ashe rasped. “Your paperwork is probably ready.” 

Dimitri took his hand back, smooth as silk and maintaining contact for as long as possible. He rose to standing, his hands on his hips, and once again looked down on the seated Ashe, staring at him like a king to his subject. 

“Well, we’re going to be here a while it seems,” Dimitri said. “I suppose I’ll see you around, eat more of your delicious food.” 

Ashe had a few other things Dimitri could eat. 

He watched Dimitri walk away, unable to look anywhere else but those well fitting jeans. Once he had disappeared into Christophe’s office, Ashe flopped back onto his creeper with a puff of breath and it rolled across the floor. 

____

There was a tiny greenhouse behind the motel. It was a small lean-to under tautly pulled plastic tarps. The only humid plot of land within miles. Mercedes and Ashe had built it after talking about fresh vegetables for weeks. They had plotted and planned the structure together and then one sunny afternoon, they abandoned Annette in an empty diner to go build it. Overtime, as the need for more and more vegetables arose, it expanded. Looking nothing more than a hodgepodge of clearly different tarps and amateur construction. With nothing more than the occasional wind storm, the so-called greenhouse stood. 

It was a hobby more than anything. A way to let off some steam after a long day of work before slinking away to the motel to pass out. About once a week, one of them would get a new packet of seeds to obsess over and sequester away into their greenhouse to excitedly plant them. And all it resulted in was that every so often a lucky customer who happened to be drifting by got a fresh salad without any freezer burn. 

Ashe loved it. It didn’t have the meticulous perfection of working on his motorcycle or the responsibility of being his actual job that cooking had. This was for him and his own personal enjoyment alone. 

The sun was just barely up, the sky still grey, and the greenhouse would be cool enough to enjoy. Ashe stepped out of his first floor room, over the dirt parking lot, to the still shadowy backside of the motel where their greenhouse was propped. He filled his water canister to the brim and lugged it alongside, leaning to the side where it weighed him down. He’d need to go back for a couple more runs, but that was part of the charm. 

He was ready to perform the standard duties of watering and feeding and talking to the plants as he usually did, but that morning was a little special. He wanted to pick out some fresh veggies for their guests. If the two intoxicating motorcyclists were going to stick around for a bit and one of them had a fondness for vegetables, who was Ashe to not spoil him with his own private stock. 

A thrill went through Ashe as he practically skipped along, the water canister sloshing at his side. Humming to himself and happy, he pulled aside the flap. 

And almost dropped the water canister all over himself. 

The big one, the very object of Ashe’s thoughts, Dedue Dimitri had called him, stood in the center of Ashe’s greenhouse. His mass took up most of it. He took up the entirety of the aisle that had been designed for Mercedes’ and Ashe’s significantly slighter bodies. He was bent over the bench, fingers delicately holding up the underside of Ashe’s violets, eyes closed and clearly inhaling their scent. He was much more smoother than Ashe was, opening his eyes slowly and rising to his full height. His head just barely touched the ceiling. 

“Good morning,” he said quietly. 

Ashe only stared at the intruder of his dreams took up so much space in his greenhouse, looking like a flower in his own right. A tree Ashe wanted to climb. 

He was being rude. 

“Good morning,” Ashe piped. 

Dedue’s smile was significantly more gentle than Dimitri’s, lacking the brazen confidence to stroll right between Ashe’s legs, but a comfort that he belonged in Ashe’s greenhouse. He looked around the room. 

“I apologize if I’m intruding,” he said. 

“Not at all.” Ashe furiously shook his head. “No, its communal.” 

“For guests?” 

“For-for anyone who wants it,” Ashe stammered. And after _that_ statement hung in the air, Ashe balked. “I mean for guests too, yes guests can enter, come in, use. . . you’re welcome in here.”

“Thank you,” Dedue said with that kind smile. 

Ashe held the canister close to his chest, doing about just as much to protect himself as the wrench had. His eyes stung when he didn’t blink and he jumped to action at the realization of it. Quickly, he went to watering his precious stock, pouring far too much onto his tomatoes. He bent over, his unblinking eyes focused on his plants in an effort to ignore the man who took up so much space in his house. 

The early morning silence rang between them and Ashe could feel eyes on him as Dimitri’s had, sliding over his body, watching him work. 

“This is yours then?” Dedue asked. 

“Kind of,” Ashe said. “Its shared. Between me and Mercedes. The other waitress, you met her I think? Or saw her? We’re pretty much the only ones who plant in here, but it is welcome to anyone.” 

“Which ones are yours?” 

Ashe’s eyes darted back and forth to the big man. The water from his canister cascaded over the edge of the tomato bed and wet dirt splashed along his shoes. He jumped and moved on to the cabbage. 

“Most of the vegetables are mine, although Mercedes likes to plant brussel sprouts,” Ashe said. “I’m afraid I’m the boring one.” 

“Hardly.” The way the word slipped from Dedue’s lips sent a shiver up Ashe’s spine. “So you don’t plant any flowers?” 

“Well.” Ashe stood up, once again holding the canister like a shield. “The violets are mine.” 

Dedue’s smile did more to warm the greenhouse than the oncoming sunshine. He took a purple petal between his fingers again and gently rubbed over the tiny flower. Ashe watched his thumb move with abject interest. 

“I had a feeling,” he said. His eyes moved from the flower to pin Ashe in place. “They are quite lovely.”

Ashe’s shoulders hiked high. He didn’t need that kind of onslaught that early in the morning. 

“I suppose I should leave you to it,” Dedue said. 

“Oh yes, well, let me. . .” 

But before Ashe could make a move to the front flap, Dedue was already side stepping behind him. Ashe was pushed up against the table, his hips driving into the wood, as the big man took up his backside. A warm body pressed against his back, trapping him in place, pinning him down. Ashe’s breath caught and his eyes fluttered closed, feeling the strength of the motorcyclist pressed up behind him. 

He smelled good. A far cry different from the gasoline of motorcycles or the banal scent of the motel provided soap. Floral, a handsome blend of lavender and pear, probably brought of his own accord on his travels. An expensive scent that wrapped around Ashe as Dedue’s arms slid on either side of him. 

With another step, Dedue slipped away and the moment was over. Ashe puffed out a breath, his body deflating and hunching over his vegetables. He looked sidelong at Dedue, face flushed and ashamed at his obvious reaction. 

Dedue simply gave another one of those sweet smiles and hunched to step out under the flap. 

“Have a good morning, Ashe,” he said and disappeared into the sweltering morning. 

Ashe needed to have a quick sit. 

____

Ashe idly poked at his salad with his fork and turned the page in his book. It was a coffee table clunker that took up a good fraction of the table, filled with high definition photographs printed lovingly on quality stock. Each picture had a small description, a few paragraphs long either on the opposite page or taking up a small portion of the photograph itself. Pictures of places Ashe had yet to go, places he yearned to be, and the stories that supported them. 

It was a new book, delivered maybe a week ago, but had been read multiple times at that point. Certain pages had been dog eared, marked for special interest. He’d search more into the sweeping mountains to maybe see snow for the first time or the islands out in the middle of blue oceans. Each one of these new vistas would be researched in kind, a book bought for each one. 

He lifted the forkful of lettuce and cucumber to his mouth, missed, and ended up stabbing himself in the face. He shook his head and glared at the offending instrument. 

“Taking a break?” 

Ashe jolted in place and dropped his fork. It clattered to the small salad bowl and pieces of wilted lettuce flopped to the side. The two motorcyclists stood like towers at the end of his table, smiling down at him. Well Dimitri smiled, Dedue seemed so serious, but Ashe could glimpse a hint of an upturn of his lips. 

“Oh I’m sorry,” Ashe said, moving to stand up. “Did you need some lunch? I can–”

“No no no, its quite alright,” Dimitri said with a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back to sitting. 

“I. . . oh?” 

Ashe looked around the diner. It was dead save for the three of them. Mercedes had gone on break in her room in the hotel, Annette had driven the hour into town. Ashe was supposed to be manning the place and figured it had been sometime since he saw a car drive by. 

“Did you need something?” he asked. 

“We just saw you through the window,” Dimitri said. He slid into the booth next to Ashe, essentially trapping him in. “We figured we’d say hi.” 

Ashe slid against the far side of the booth as he could. The same scent of expensive soaps that Dedue wore wafted from Dimitri, but it was different on him. A separate quality that was regal some how. 

“We just came in from town,” he said. “Saw a couple of sights.” 

Dedue nodded amicably and slid into the seat across from Ashe. His big booted feet clunked up against Ashe’s own and Ashe shied away. 

“Isn’t your bike in the shop?” Ashe asked. 

“He rode on the back of mine,” Dedue said. 

And that was somehow worse. Dimitri, big but not in the shadow of his friend, straddled behind Dedue, arms around him. The two of them cupped together perfectly as a match set. It implied certain aspects to their relationship and Ashe felt damn near voyeuristic just thinking about it. 

Dimitri probably didn’t hug Dedue. Probably. 

“What are you looking at?” Dimitri said, leaning in close to inspect the snow capped mountains. 

“Oh uh. . . just a book,” Ashe said sheepishly. 

Dimitri’s crystal clear blue eye pierced right through Ashe. 

“Of the world?” he asked. 

Ashe nodded feebily. 

“I know dreaming about it must seem silly to people like you,” Ashe said picking at the corner of a dog eared page. 

“Nonsense,” Dedue said. 

Ashe’s head shot up to look the man in the eye. Light glinted off his earring and Ashe wondered where it had originated from. He wondered where these men had come from where they had been where they belonged. All of these things that Ashe was sure separated them like the canyons in his book. 

“We all at one point had such thoughts,” Dedue said. “It only takes a choice to act on them.” 

Ashe looked from one man to the other. He smiled and ducked his chin to his chest, feeling his face heat. 

Dimitri leaned in close, swinging one arm over the back of the bench. Ashe could feel his body heat, could hear the creek over his overheated leather jacket. 

He tapped the mountains. 

“We’ve been there,” he said. 

“You have?” Ashe asked. Of course they had. It only made sense. 

Dedue nodded solemnly. 

“It was quite beautiful,” he said. 

“I’m sure you’ve been everywhere,” Ashe said. 

“Not everywhere,” Dedue said. 

“Lets find out,” Dimitri said, pulling the book away. He flipped through the pages, going past forest and national parks, cities and oceans, each flip of the page showing off how well travelled they were. 

“Dimitri has been to far more places than I have,” Dedue said, leaning back in his booth. “He’s been a traveller long before I was.”

“Thats how I found Dedue here,” Dimitri said and winked with his one good eye. 

Dedue smirked and looked out the window, but Ashe could see the sprinkle of red across his cheeks. 

That definitely solidified the nature of their relationship and what Ashe would be thinking about as he lay in bed that night. 

“Here,” Dimitri said, stopping at the page of a city. “We haven’t been here. Yet. What do you think Dedue, want to go?” 

He turned the book to the table showing of a brightly lit city. The picture had been taken at night. Neon lights stood in a state of mid flash, showing off the shapes of girls, guitars, and guns. 

“Country music,” Dedue said flatly, with no disdain or intrest. 

“I’ve heard good things,” Ashe said. 

Dimitri turned his head slowly and commanded Ashe’s attention. He smiled, gentle and sincere, but there was something sinister behind it. 

“Did you want to go?” he asked, idly flicking the curled over corner and already knowing the answer. 

Ashe tried to look away, tried to lower his chin, but he couldn’t. He was mesmerized by the man. Under the table, Dedue’s foot slid closer and nudged his sneaker. The arm on the back of the bench slid closer. The scrutiny and attention from the two men made Ashe feel like he was the center of the universe. Utterly important. As if their very fate hung on his answer. 

He licked his lips. 

“I–”

The bell on the door tinkled as Annette came rushing back in. 

“Sorry about that!” she called out. “I didn’t expect there to be so much traffic in. . . oh hello.” She said the last word with risen interest. 

Dedue and Dimitri’s attentions were stricken from him, pulled away. The foot retreated and Dimitri leaned back to a reasonable distance. 

“H-hey,” Ashe stumbled, aware of how that looked.

And based on Annette’s expression, it looked just as bad as he knew it to be. Her brows raised high and a small amused smile struggled on her face, like she was attempting to hold back laughter. 

“Are you doing okay?” she asked. 

Ashe nodded furiously. 

“Just fine thanks,” Dimitri said, nothing but cordiality and charisma. 

“Okay then,” Annette said, not holding back the laughter. “Did you want to order some lunch?” 

“Sure,” Dimitri said, but turned his face to look at Ashe, like he was something to eat. 

“Let-let me get on that,” Ashe said, scooching to get out. “I got that.” 

The big book thudded as it snapped shut and Ashe pulled it close to the side. He almost pushed up against Dimitri’s side, stopping just shy of touching the man. Slowly, he looked up to meet Dimitri’s eye and caught sight of nothing but a hunger. Dimitri’s smile widened. He held the stare for a beat too long before edging out of the booth. 

Ashe took a large step from the booth, putting space between him and _them_. He held the book up to his chest, clutching it like a shield. 

“I can make you a fresh salad if you like,” he said to Dedue. 

The big man’s eyes were calm and gentle, but no less dangerous as Dimitri’s. They met Ashe’s gaze before gliding down over his body and up again. 

“With the fresh veggies from the garden,” Ashe tried, speaking in a hush. 

Dedue nodded once. Ashe could definitely read the small smile on his face this time. 

He turned to Dimitri. 

“Would you like anything?” he asked. 

Dimitri’s smile almost made him regret it. 

“I’ll take another shake,” he said and they way he did told Ashe that when he said _’shake’_ he didn’t mean the milk variety. 

Ashe swallowed. 

“Okie dokie,” he said. 

He paused for a moment before leaning forward and grabbing his pathetic salad. He tried not to notice the eyes on him, the proximity of the two men, their shared scent. He closed his eyes and pulled back, immediately marching to the kitchen. 

“What was that?” Annette laughed in a whisper. 

“Shut up,” Ashe said. 

____

Ashe sat up on the bench, tinkering with a gear box in his lap. He was idly tightening it, loosening it, and retightening. A nothing exercise that only allowed his mind to drift. 

The idle loneliness of the highway left the inhabitants of the little roadside motel with few visitors. There were hardly any social interactions outside of the diner and repair shop employees. Folks seen on the day to day. The same faces, the same voices, the same friends. 

That had to be it. Ashe had brief crushes on beautiful strangers before. A small flutter of smitten attention he gave to someone with symmetrical features. A charismatic smile. A deep set voice. The little things that reminded Ashe of how alone he was when he lay in bed at night. 

It had to be the motorcycles. A passion Ashe shared with the two men. The deep seated drive Ashe had to follow in his father’s footsteps, to ride as he had on the back of his father’s bike when he was a kid. A lifelong obsession that spurred Ashe’s continuous repair of his Harley. 

It had to be a one two punch of beautiful men, riding Ashe’s obsession, and his loneliness. Thats all it was. 

Ashe tightened the gear too tight and it snapped. 

Ashe sighed. He dropped his hands, letting them go slack between his knees. The grip on his screwdriver and the gearbox going lax. He looked off into the empty garage. It had closed hours ago, the night long since started. Ashe should have been fast asleep, but he simply couldn’t. Not with the rampant thoughts and fantasies that filled his mind. 

Dedue’s body pressed against his back. Dimitri leering in close, arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

The soft rumble of their combined motorcycles. 

Ashe closed his eyes, his toes pointing in pigeon toed, trying to will away the strain against his pants. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

Ashe yelped and jolted in place. The gear box went crashing to the ground, surely suffering more damage. His eyes went wide, head whipping to the source of the soft voice. 

Dedue stood large in the far doorway, a shadow in the night. He held a bucket in his hands, filling the frame of the garage door. 

“Sorry,” he said in a gentle monotone, not sounding sorry at all. 

“Dedue,” Ashe said breathlessly. “What are you doing up?” 

“Ice,” Dedue gave of way of explanation, holding up the bucket. “More importantly, what are you doing awake?”

“I. . .uh. . ,” Ashe looked down to the scattered gearbox on the floor and to his motorcycle, still propped up for repairs as it perpetually was. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“Is something keeping you awake?” Dedue asked. 

He stepped into the garage. Ashe was sure he didn’t saunter, but the shift of his hips was all the more tantalizing. Blame Ashe’s rampant dirty mind. The second he realized he was staring, Ashe jerked his eyes from Dedue’s tree trunk legs back to his face. If Dedue noticed, he didn’t react. Or maybe that hint of a smile was all Ashe would get. 

“Is this your motorcycle?” he asked, pointing to the upside down Harley. 

“Oh. Um. Yes.” 

Ashe felt his face heat, embarrassed of the quality of bike he had compared to the monster Dedue rode. His blush grew when he realized the proximity of the big man. 

“Dimitri told me about it,” Dedue said, growing ever closer. “He told me you were fixing it up.” 

Dedue slowed down, but that didn’t make it better. The pace hitting a point of sensuality. He stepped just shy of Ashe’s knees. 

“It seems like its fine to ride,” Dedue said, not even looking at the motorcycle. “Whats there left to fix?” 

Ashe didn’t know what to say. He sat there with his mouth open, trying to take in heavy breaths. He sucked in a deep gasp when a large hand rested on his knee. Then a second on the other. Ashe’s whole attention dropped to that touch as they slowly coaxed Ashe’s legs to spread. To accommodate Dedue’s wide girth. He stepped right over the fallen gearbox, pushing his hands up Ashe’s thighs. 

“It seems to me,” he said, stepping further between Ashe’s legs. “That you are stalling.” 

Ashe watched those big hands travel up his thighs, thick fingers digging into his jeans. They slid dangerously close to the ever growing reaction that tented at his crotch. There was no hiding it. 

Ashe looked up to the big man, his eyes big and wide and wanting. Dedue’s hands pulsed around his thighs, gripping them tight. He leaned in and Ashe could taste the heat on his breath. 

“What are you waiting for Ashe?” he asked. 

Ashe looked back and forth between Dedue’s eyes, far too close to look at both of them at once. A pale blue that he could practically swim in. 

“I. . .” he managed to croak out. 

Dedue leaned in just a little closer, close enough that he might be able to hear Ashe’s hammering heart beat. 

“Tell me to stop,” Dedue said quietly. 

Ashe didn’t want him to stop. He didn’t want that at all. He wanted those big hands to touch him, touch him more, touch all of him. He wanted them to squeeze in harder, move Ashe’s thighs wherever Dedue wanted. He would go where Dedue wanted. 

He wanted Dedue to close that gap. 

Ashe sat up a little straighter, leaned in a little closer, his eyes falling closed. 

The sound of clattering and ice skittering across the floor echoed off the empty garage walls. Dedue wasn’t startled. He didn’t seem like the type to ever be startled. But he slid out from between Ashe’s legs, taking a careful step back and putting a reasonable amount of space between them. Ashe snapped his legs shut, his thighs chilling from where Dedue's warmth had gripped them. 

Christophe jumped to avoid the ice that had spilled from the bucket in the door. Ashe couldn’t tell if his brother had just seen the precarious position he had just been put in and he hoped to whatever deity was listening that he hadn’t. There was no stopping his blush though. 

Christophe had the good sense to look surprised when he noticed Ashe and Dedue in his garage. 

“What are you two doing here?” he asked. 

“J-just fixing my bike,” Ashe peeped. 

“I figured I could help,” Dedue said. 

“Yeah well,” Christophe said slowly, his eyes moving from Ashe to Dedue and back again. “Maybe pick this up tomorrow? Shop’s closed to the public.” 

Ashe slid off the table and briskly walked away from Dedue, screwdriver in hand. He looked over his shoulder to see a soft gentle smile that was far more threatening than it had any right to be. 

Ashe went to his room to lie in his bed. Alone. 

____

Sleep did not come to Ashe. He lay in bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling, feeling entirely too hot and his skin too tight. He yearned to reach his hand under the sheets, into his pants, to find some relief. 

The mere thought of it sent Ashe into a tizzy. The filthy act of getting himself off to people, _real_ people, was so far depraved that he couldn’t manage to wrap his hand around an aching erection. 

Ashe sat up in bed, trying to control his breath, and think of math and kittens. Steadily, he managed to regain control of his body and the thirst for gorgeous motorcyclists subsided. 

He needed a drink. 

Ashe slid out of bed, swinging his legs out from under the comforter into the air conditioned chill of his room. His toes curled on the matted carpet and he shivered in the cold. Without dressing into the clothing of civilized people, he slipped on his sneakers and left his room in boxers and a t-shirt. 

The vending machine glowed like a lighthouse sandwiched between the receptionist’s office and the ice machine. Mercedes had long since gone to sleep in the cot in the back and the glowing box of the office was empty behind a sign that read OPEN. 

Ashe unfurled the wadded up bill in his hand and tried to smooth it out. He rolled it back and forth on the corner and slid it into the machine. It whirred, took his money, and Ashe jabbed on an orange flavored sugar monstrosity. The vending machine groaned, something deep within let out a dull _ka-thunk_ , and nothing came out. 

Ashe frowned at the empty pick-up box, as if his pout would give him the goods. He slammed his fist on the plastic, but nothing else came out. 

“Come on,” he whined. 

Why was life not giving him what he wanted? 

A door opened behind him with a click and a squeak. Ashe turned, an apology on his lips for waking the guest up, but it caught in his throat when he saw exactly who it was. 

Dimitri stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, brows raised in amusement. Still dressed, plain white t-shirt tucked into dark jeans and barefoot, he was still a vision. He huffed out a small laugh and stepped out of his room. 

“I. . . I’m sorry,” Ashe stammered. “Did I wake you?” 

“No,” Dimitri said, walking to Ashe with the same purpose Dedue had. “We were still awake.” 

Behind him, Dedue stepped into the doorway, filling it more than Dimitri had, casting a long shadow into the parking lot. Dimitri’s feet slapped quietly against the concrete as he approached. 

“What are you doing up?” Dimitri asked, stepping into Ashe’s personal space. 

“. . . couldn’t sleep,” Ashe said quietly. 

_’Because of you,’_ he kept to himself. 

Dimitri leered. His calm collected smile all knowing, reading Ashe’s mind. He ducked down, crouching to a very dangerous level, but kept his eyes on Ashe’s face. He reached around Ashe’s legs and up into the vending machine, knocking around some stuck gears until an aluminum can thunked into his hand. He rose to standing again and handed over the orange can. 

“Thanks,” Ashe said, distinctly aware of how warm Dimitri’s fingers were when they brushed against Ashe’s. 

“The sugar will keep you awake,” he warned. 

He took a step closer, crowding Ashe. Ashe’s back hit the vending machine, the plastic cover warbling out a soft gong.

“Not that you need any more sugar,” Dimitri said. He rested his fist against the vending machine, his arm above Ashe’s head. “You’re already so sweet.” 

Ashe looked up slowly, overwhelmed with the biker’s forwardness. He managed to keep a grim seriousness in his expression, chin tucked but eyes focused on Dimitri’s face, clutching the can to his chest. 

“You’re teasing me,” Ashe said, hushed. 

Dimitri leaned in closer still and Ashe prayed that no one interrupt them this time. 

“Would you like some sugar, Ashe?” he asked. 

Ashe glanced quickly to Dedue in the doorway, still staring down his friend overwhelming the little cook. The voyeurism only added that much more to the situation. Without looking away from the big man, he answered Dimitri. 

“Please,” he whispered. 

Dimitri did what Dedue had been interrupted from. He was quick to press his lips against Ashe’s, harsh and hard, pushing the shorter man into the vending machine. There was nothing tentative, nothing sweet about it, a full on assault. Dimitri hardly needed to convince his mouth open, to make room for a hungry tongue, to press up against Ashe’s. His hand pushed Ashe’s side, shoving him harder against the plastic, digging into delicate skin underneath a flimsy shirt. 

Ashe groaned. He melted against the kiss. Let Dimitri’s hands mold him to his will. 

Teeth dug into his lip and a large hand pressed on the small of his back. A thick leg slid between his own, pressing up on his already tortured groin. 

Ashe’s moans and whimpers would be enough to wake anyone up, but in that moment he found he didn’t care. He wriggled against Dimitri, pushed down on that leg, ground against him. His fist found Dimitri’s shirt and clutched it, pulling the shockingly big man closer onto him. 

What he wouldn’t give for Dimitri to drag him down right then and there. 

Instead, Dimitri pulled away. Lips swollen and red, a smile slowly curling up the corners of his mouth. 

Ashe slumped a little lower against the machine. 

“You sleep well now, Ashe,” he said. “You’re going to need it.” 

Before Ashe could ask what _that_ meant, Dimitri turned with one last lingering smile and walked back to his room. Dedue still stood in the doorway and from the way his face was shadowed Ashe could not read if he was smiling or not. He rested a big hand on Dimitri’s back, guiding him back into the room, and the intimate gesture did so much more for Ashe than that kiss ever could. 

He scuttled back to his room, confident now that he was allowed to _deal_ with his _problem._

____

Ashe shuffled out of the back of the diner like a zombie. The laughable amount of sleep he’d gotten the night before hadn’t been nearly enough to justify him being upright and on his feet. The sun had barely come up and the back of the diner was still dark. The door behind him squeaked on its hinges as it slammed shut. 

Ashe stood with a garbage bag in hand and stared out over the expanse of the desert. His head was empty, all thoughts replaced with static. His mind a blur. 

He had stopped mid action. The way he would enter a room and forget what he was doing there. Ashe stared out over the expanse of the desert, flat open and empty. A reflection of his mind. 

The on going torment of the thoughts that had been planted in his brain had kept him up late at night. His bodily functions had been replaced with a fuzz and a blur. He couldn’t sleep. He’d forgotten to eat. He could only shuffle like a sleepwalker into the break of day and hope he made it through with his feet planted firmly on the ground. 

Ashe just needed to get laid. 

Picking up where he left off, Ashe did that zombie walk to the dumpster and threw the trash inside. The lid squeaked like a bad movie sound effect, breaking through the quiet of the morning. Ashe let go of it and it slammed shut, losing the usual polite finesse he had with those early morning activities. 

He stared blankly at the green metal, wishing desperately to crawl inside and be carried away. 

To be taken away on the back of a motorcycle. 

Ashe heard quiet conversation to his side. Thinking it to be patrons of the hotel he had woken up with his noise cacophony, Ashe turned to apologize. 

He’d been half right. 

Dimitri and Dedue stood in the parking lot. They were dressed in gear to ride. Tight jeans that hugged curves the way a motorcycle hugged the road. Thick leather jackets, unzipped to reveal the tops of well toned chests. Gloves that played on Ashe’s imagination of something more than just a tight grip. Helmets under their arms. 

Smiling directly at Ashe, with his full attention, Dimitri placed his helmet down on the bike. He said something to Dedue and even if Ashe could have heard it, he wouldn’t have been able to understand it through his hazy, lust addled mind. Dedue nodded solemnly and the two motorcyclists walked across the parking lot in Ashe’s direction. 

Smiles aimed at him and promising. 

Ashe, deer in headlights, knew he should run. He knew he should scuttle back into the safety of the diner, where the motorcyclists and their legs and their smiles and their glove covered hands couldn’t touch him. 

Oh how he wanted them to touch him. 

Ashe watched fascinated at the way Dimitri’s hips moved as he sauntered closer. The way Dedue’s arms hung heavy at his sides. He tried and failed to ignore the way his pants tightened. 

“Good morning Ashe,” Dimitri said and it sounded like he spoke different far more unholy words. 

“Is it?” Ashe asked quietly. 

Dimitri chuckled, ducking his head. At least Dedue had the good presence of mind to look apologetic. At least, Ashe hoped thats what it was. 

“It is for me,” Dimitri said. He closed the gap between Ashe, stepping far too close. Ashe stumbled back a step, hiding in the shadow of the dumpster. “I had _quite_ the pleasant night last night.” 

A gloved hand touched Ashe’s hip, making his skin jolt. 

“Didn’t you?” Dimitri asked, his voice dropping into a deep timbre. 

Ashe choked on air, trying desperately to find the words to scream _’yes yes yes I did and I want more.’_

“I–,” he managed. 

Dimitri continued his walk, trailing his hand across Ashe’s apron. A feather light touch that strayed just a little too far below Ashe’s belly button but still too high for his liking. Dedue, silent and stoic, moved in closer. He should have been the greater threat, a big man that eclipsed Ashe two fold and as he drew near, Ashe was forced to tilt his head back. He tried to stumble further, but Dimitri was shifting behind him. 

“You know,” Dimitri said, his mouth dangerously close to Ashe’s ear. “Dedue confided in me that he was jealous.” 

“He was?” Ashe asked, dreamlike and looking up at the man. 

Dedue’s glove was fingerless. Calloused fingers touched Ashe’s cheek, brushing up to his cheekbone. A thick thumb ran over Ashe’s lip. 

“Dimitri had first taste,” he rumbled. “Which I was denied.” 

He slid his thumb over Ashe’s lower lip, pulling it as he went. The wet from just inside Ashe’s lip trailing over the cracked skin. 

Dimitri slithered behind Ashe like a wraith, his hands encircling his waist, palms pressed to his stomach. A careful, _dangerous_ kiss pressed to his neck. 

“Dedue does not often get jealous,” Dimitri murmured against Ashe’s skin. “Are you going to deny him a second time?”

Ashe’s eyelids lowered heavy and wanting. His mouth hung open, pink and hungry. 

“No,” he whispered. 

At the permission, Dedue leaned down and met Ashe’s lips. It wasn’t the rush Dimitri gave him, the push, the near bloodthirsty domination of his mouth. Dedue was soft and kind. He probed and convinced. Not that Ashe needed much convincing. He opened ready and willing for Dedue. Eyes closed, hands framing his face, and tongue gentle as Dedue tasted of Ashe. 

The gloved hands in front travelled down, closer and closer to where Ashe wanted Dimitri’s touch the most. The mouth on his neck worrying a bruise into his delicate skin. Teeth scraped along his lip. 

It was an assault. 

Dedue tilted his head to make room for Dimitri as he hunched over Ashe, lined his mouth up with Ashe’s ear, slid his hands just under Ashe’s apron. 

“Can I touch you?” he whispered. 

Like a man coming up for air, Ashe gasped between gentle kisses. 

“Please!” he said before Dedue touched down again. “Please touch me–”

Ashe could _taste_ Dimitri’s smile alongside Dedue's tongue. 

Strong hands slid over the front of Ashe’s too tight pants. A fine grip over the strained tent that made Ashe moan into Dedue's mouth. That hand stroked and pet and conjured up Ashe's cock to full attention and turned his jeans from uncomfortable to painful. They traced the shape of his dick, pressing around it, stroking with fingers on either side. The touch ran down between his legs, cupping balls, forcing his legs wider still. Dedue moved in closer, not helping, pushing his big boot between Ashe’s sneakers. 

Ashe whimpered into his mouth. 

“We’re going to spoil you this morning,” Dimitri whispered directly into his ear. 

Clever fingers worked on the button of Ashe’s jeans and Ashe clutched at Dedue’s broad shoulders. Beneath the cover of Ashe’s apron, his pants were opened, pulled down his hips, revealing the length that had been hard since the night before. 

Gloved fingers wrapped in soft leather took hold of his dick. A feeling that Ashe had wanted the second he saw the man straddled across his bike. 

“Ah!” Ashe gasped before his mouth was once again taken over by Dedue. 

Dimitri stroked him, slow and torturous. Ashe wanted release, wanted to chase his orgasm, but it seemed his torturers wanted to watch him squirm. 

Big hands reached around his apron, pushing it taut down the front of his chest. His shirt was hiked up, skin slowly being revealed to the cool dim of the desert morning. Ashe shook, praying he knew what Dedue was doing, where he wanted to touch, and wanted to give it all to him. Feel his fingers against his skin for hours and hours. 

Dedue found pert nipples, alert at the sudden attention they were receiving. 

Ashe dug his nails into Dedue’s arms and groaned and whimpered as thumbs flicked over his sensitive nipples. 

Ashe moved. He danced into Dimitri’s hand, grinding into it. He undulated under Dedue’s touch. A big hand came up to cup his chin and tilted his head away from Dedue’s kiss, to which Ashe protested with a whimper. That warm mouth gently pressed kisses to the corner of his lips, to his cheek, to his jaw. Fingers pinched at his nipple, twisted and pulled. The hand around his dick picked up speed. Leather swiping the head, wrist twisting. A warm touch that danced under the green of Ashe’s apron. 

Dedue’s wandering kisses found Ashe’s neck, tilting head head to give him more access. Dimitri bit down on Ashe’s ear. He ground up against Ashe’s backside, obviously delighted with the way Ashe squirmed. Dedue moved ever closer and closer, near to pressing his own body up against Ashe in a perfect sandwich. 

“Do you want us?” Dimitri whispered in Ashe’s ear. 

His hand squeezed. Dedue suckled on sensitive skin. Fingers twisted his nipple. 

“Y-yes. . .” Ashe breathed. 

“Would you mind if we shared?” Dedue rumbled against his skin. 

“Please!” Ashe wailed. 

A hand clamped over Ashe’s mouth, regrettably leaving his dick. His wail muffled against the leather, gagged by the sweet scent. The hand pushed, craning his neck back and forcing him to stare up into the sky, bruised with the pinks of the on coming sun. 

“Be quiet, pretty boy,” Dimitri whispered in his ear. Another bite, another hand around his dick. 

Ashe groaned around the hand, his head rolling, his body rolling, his eyes rolling. He pushed back against Dimitri, feeling his own interest press against him. 

“Dedue,” Dimitri commanded. “Keep him quiet for us, would you?” 

Dimitri’s hand slid down to Ashe’s neck and was promptly replaced with Dedue’s kiss once again. He kept Ashe’s head at that strained, craned angle, fully pressing up against his body. With every jerk of his eager hand, Dimitri tapped against Dedue’s thigh. Ashe wanted to reach down, to find if Dedue was just as hungry for this as Dimitri and he was, but all Ashe could do was hang on for dear life. From the way his tongue snaked eagerly to taste deep within Ashe’s mouth, it seemed that he was. 

Steadily, Dimitri placed pressure down on Ashe’s throat. A slow choking grip that dug into his muscles and was slow to cut off his air. Ashe gagged on Dedue’s tongue, huffing to get a breath in. Suddenly realizing just how strong and deadly the man behind him was. He grabbed Dimitri’s wrist and dug his nails in and the pressure let up. 

Dimitri’s chuckle in his ear was positively sinister. 

“You need to learn to share, pretty boy,” he said. 

Ashe strained to look at him, heaving breaths from both the eroticism and lack of air. 

The kiss from Dedue ended and he pulled away. The height of Dimitri’s still held hand kept his head up. Ashe whimpered at the loss, his eyes following Dedue as he moved to the side. 

Then the most glorious thing happened. 

Dedue leaned in close, just past his periphery, but Ashe could still see as his lips met Dimitri’s. 

How wonderful, how beautiful. The two bikers locked in a moment of intimacy that Ashe felt undeserving to merely be there. The way Dedue melted into the kiss and Ashe wondered if that was how he looked when kissing him. The way Dimitri took command, despite having full command over Ashe at the same time. His hand frantically working over Ashe’s dick, the other gradually pressing down on his throat again. 

Ashe watched the erotic scene before him. The gentle pass of their lips. The way Dimitri’s tongue slid against Dedue’s. The tilt of their heads. Dimitri’s single good eye, blue and piercing right through Ashe. 

Ashe gasped around the hand on his throat, trying to breathe as no sound came out. His dick danced in the hand that choked it, cum spurting into his jeans. He convulsed between the two men that pressed so tight against him, holding him fast as he descended into orgasm. 

Finally, Dimitri released his hold on both Ashe and Dedue. Ashe gasped for air, still convulsing with his orgasm, and fell forward. He flopped against Dedue’s chest, strong arms wrapped around him to hold him up.

Ashe’s legs quivered. His arms felt kitten weak as they held onto Dedue’s frame. He shuddered trying to catch his breath and remember how to stand. 

Dimitri leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to Ashe’s cheek. Ashe gasped, his eyes closing involuntarily, even though he wanted to see. 

“Is that what you were looking for?” he asked, hands on Ashe’s hips. 

Ashe nodded weakly, cheek pressed against Dedue’s chest. Dimitri chuckled and leaned in to plant another chaste kiss, as if he weren’t defiling Ashe silly. 

“Greedy boy.” 

Hands still resting on Ashe’s hips, Dimitri reached under his apron again and began buttoning his jeans back into place. Every brush over his abused cock sent jolts through Ashe’s body. Quiet kisses down his neck and steady hands on his back were a sharp contrast to the wanton groping from just a moment before. 

Once Ashe’s legs had stopped shaking and he felt sure of himself, he sighed. Dimitri finished pulling his shirt back down, as if nothing had happened, but Ashe had never felt more filthy in his life. Dedue helped him steady to his feet. 

“You should clean up,” he said, patting down Ashe’s hair. “And rest.” 

Ashe blinked up at him, mouth hung open, not knowing what to say. Dedue stepped away and Ashe felt the cold of his body, wanting to grab the man and pull him back into place. 

Dimitri walked back around him, the two of them moving away from Ashe and leaving him wobbling in place. 

“Your brother says my bike will be ready soon,” Dimitri said. “We’ll go for a _ride_ later.” 

“Later?” Ashe said, not focusing on the right word. 

He wanted to ride right then. 

“We’re going into town now,” Dedue explained, walking backwards. “We’ll see you this evening.” 

Ashe only held still, watching the beautiful men leave him in the sunrise. They straddled Dedue’s Rocket, Dimitri on the back and legs open around Dedue’s girth. It was impossible not to think about the kiss they had shared, of what Dimitri’s legs might look like wrapped around his midsection, moaning his name. 

How Ashe wanted to be that. 

The motorcycle revved and it wasn’t until they faded into the distance did Ashe lean against the diner wall. 

He needed a change of pants. 

____

Annette had shooed him out of the kitchen when Ashe almost fell asleep face first on the grill. Her scold was just shy of yelling but she managed to force him back to his room and to not emerge until the next day. 

The way the word _’ride’_ cycled around and around in his head, he knew he would be out by that evening. 

After enough of a meander in the desert to sting a burn on the back of his neck, Ashe took his second shower of the day and passed out onto the hotel sheets without dressing. He awoke after sun down to the rumbling sound of motorcycle thunder. Pushing aside gauzy curtains, he saw that they had returned. 

Them.

The bikers. 

The hands from that morning had so thoroughly burned their brands into Ashe's skin, as red as the sunburn on the back of his neck. Dimitri paused to look up, his eye meeting Ashe's. He probably couldn't see much more than the silhouette of his shape in a darkened room, but it was enough to quirk a knowing smile on his lips. Ashe flinched, almost going to hide, but he stood his ground and watched the two men disappear into Gaspard's. 

Ashe sat on the bed, waiting like a doll for his owners to come home and play with him. He took slow even breaths, counting the minutes, the hour, it took for Dimitri to get his bike back. 

Then the knock came at the door. 

Ashe rubbed his hands on his thighs, licked his lips, and ignored the way his pants were tightening. Mindlessly, he rose to his feet, and opened his door, already knowing who was on the other side. 

Dedue took up nearly most of the frame. His smile was soft and what should have been intimidating was far more comforting. 

"Come along then," he said, his voice a quiet rumble. 

Ashe let the door fall closed behind him. 

Dimitri leaned against his Ducati, careless in his own controlled way. There was a helmet under his arm and another dangling from the handlebar. It didn't register that there was one extra helmet or even that it was Ashe's until Dimitri held it out for him to take.

"Here," Dimitri said, offering, not demanding. 

The sly smile that whispered _'pretty boy'_ from that morning was long gone, only conservative politeness. 

Ashe could've said no thank you, he could have turned around and returned to his room. Dedue didn't block his way, straddling his Triumph and focused on his own helmet. remained. Dedue straddled his Triumph, both of them giving Ashe the ample room he need to back away. Giving him the option to say no. 

Ashe took the helmet. 

“Take the back of Dedue’s bike,” Dimitri said, picking up his own helmet. “It can hold two.”

Crystal clear eyes looked out from behind his helmet and Dedue kicked the bike into gear. It roared and the sound of it stirred Ashe’s loins. He licked his lips and put the helmet on his head. 

Ashe did not need to lean against Dedue. He didn’t need to wrap his arms around his large body and press his chest against Dedue’s back. He didn’t need to bury his face between his shoulder blades or straddle up against his hips. He could have just leaned back and enjoyed the ride. 

But Ashe chose to enjoy Dedue at the same time. 

He was warm and his girth strained at Ashe’s arms. He could barely touch is own fingertips and instead opted to simply rest his hands on Dedue’s chest.

The wind rippled through the sleeves of his shirt, the night enveloping the desert into a sea of black. Twin headlight illuminated the dark empty road, sliding back and forth as Dimitri and Dedue wavered closer and further from one another. The rumble of engines thundered in Ashe’s ears and echoed across the sand. Ashe tilted when Dedue did, taking the gentle turns together as one body. 

Ashe turned his head to see Dimitri had matched Dedue’s speed, riding alongside them. The tinted shades of him helmet were turned, observing the two of them wound around one another. Ashe nuzzled in closer to Dedue, shifting his arms to supreme comfort, eyes on Dimitri. 

Dimitri nodded once, satisfied with what he saw, and revved his engines. He lowered his body to his bike for aerodynamic speed and took off in front of them, leaving Dedue’s Triumph to rumble and thunder to keep up. Ashe closed his eyes and let the roll of the motorcycle between his legs take him deeper into the desert. 

They wound there way up a plateau, climbing the road that cut through it. They came to a slow stop, the engine idling as Dedue pulled up next to Dimitiri’s quieted Ducati. The bike leaned to the side as the stand propped it up, but Ashe didn’t want to let go. Regrettably, he took his arms back to himself. 

Dedue got off his bike to join Dimitiri who was once again leaned against his Ducati, leaving Ashe seated on the back of the Triumph. The quiet call of the desert breezed through Ashe, almost taunting him, and he waited for it to be filled with the other bikers, but neither one of them said a word. They simply stood side by side, arms crossed, and stared out over the desert. 

Ashe took off his helmet and looked to see what had captivated their attention. 

“Wow,” he said.

The desert stretched out like an ocean in the night, waving up and down as sand caught starlight. On the flat ground it was an endless void, but up on that plateau there was a horizon, a flat zipper line where sky kissed earth. The sky was bruised a blue purple and stars were clear, peppering the night sky as if some great god had poked holes in the canopy. The arm of the galaxy swam across in the dome, curving the shape of the earth, like a river that split the mountains of endless night. In the distance, the nearest city glowed like a beacon. A spit of light pollution that radiated like white blue and yellowed bruise, far enough to be nothing more than another accessory to the overall landscape before him. A hot wind blew against his face once again, carrying on it the dry smell of dust that had once been oppressive herald of loneliness was freedom on that plateau. 

“Yeah it is something,” Dimitri said. 

He smiled at Ashe and signalled for him to come closer. Not the seductive come hither that promised warm hands down Ashe’s pants, but an invitation to join them, nothing more and nothing less. 

Ashe got off the Triumph and stood at Dimitri’s side. Together the three of them stared out over the desert in perfect still silence, enjoying the natural beauty of the night. He could feel the heat coming off Dimitri, hear Dedue’s quiet steady breathing. The tension that Ashe had been carrying since the moment they arrived suddenly slid from his shoulders and he felt at east. 

He rubbed the back of his elbow and stared out at the night sky. 

“I thought this would be something different,” he said quietly.

Dimitri turned to look at Ashe and he saw his smile out of periphery. 

“We only wanted to show you what you were missing,” Dimitri said. 

Ashe blinked rapidly to keep something back. A lump formed in his throat. He smiled sweet and sad out over the desert. 

“I’m missing a lot,” he said. 

The leather of Dedue’s jacket made soft sounds as he turned and it settled into place. 

“Did you want this to be something different?” he asked. 

Ashe finally looked to the two men, expectant eyes on him, just as hungry and eager as he was. His smile quirked on his lips, a sudden confidence coming over him. 

“How many times do I need to say yes?” 

That was enough to move them. Silently, smiling, as if sharing a motorcycle, they shifted as one unit. Dimitri reached out, his gloved hand brushing against Ashe’s cheek. Dedue moved to come behind Ashe like the world’s gentlest shark, scenting out blood in the water. 

Dimitri was far more kind as he kissed Ashe in the evening as compared to the forcefulness from that morning. Complimentary, softly slotting Ashe’s lips between his own. Catching his lower lip and suckling it slowly. Ashe moved with him, following his lead as he tilted his head, as he moved his lips, each pass accented with a quick wet whisper. His tongue tracing the ridge of Ashe’s lip, convincing him to open. 

At the presence at Ashe’s back, Dimitri let Ashe go, helped tilt his head up for Dedue to take over. He picked up where Dimitri left off, delving deep into Ashe’s mouth, to taste of him. He pressed against Ashe’s back, not closing him in but enveloping him in comfort. His hands slid down Ashe’s arms, tracing his skin and eliciting shivers. 

Dedue let go and Ashe had just a moment to gasp for air before there were hands in his hair, guiding his head back to Dimitri. He couldn’t hold back the small growl, the way his body pressed hard against Ashe, the way he ground into him. A base animalistic need that Dimitri was clearly struggling to hold back. And in kind, Ashe groped up his chest, his fingers digging into Dimitri’s jacket, eager for what was beneath.

Dedue’s hands began to work at Ashe’s belt. 

Ashe managed to pull back from Dimitri’s onslaught, heaving for air. 

“You,” he gasped. “You two. Now you two.” 

Dimitri’s smile slowly coiled to feral. He tucked his chin to pin Ashe against his large lover. His eye slid up to Dedue, a large hand coming up to rest on Dimitri’s cheek. With all the same tenderness and care they had shown Ashe, Dedue leaned over to meet Dimitri. The two of them flush around Ashe’s body, taller than him and encapsulating him in a delicious pressure. 

Ashe watched them move, watch the way their eyes closed and they melted into one another. The way their heads worked to the side and the way their tongues touched, visible in the moonlight. Was that how they looked when they kissed him, with the same passion and tenderness and care? He bit his lip and whimpered. 

Dimitri’s good eye opened and his lips curled. 

“You like to watch,” he said as Dedue’s kisses trailed over his cheek and jaw. 

“. . . I like watching you,” Ashe whimpered again. 

Dimitri turned to look Ashe head on, his face close enough that Ashe could feel his breath on his lips. Dedue worked his way down Dimitri’s neck, pulling aside his collar to worship him all the more. He shifted closer, something hard and hungry pressed against Ashe’s backside, to match the one against his front. 

“Do you normally do this?” Ashe whispered. 

“With each other?” Dimitri purred. “As often as we can.” 

Ashe watched with fascination the way Dedue’s tongue traced over the musculature of Dimitri’s neck. 

“And with a third?” Ashe said, not looking Dimitri in the eye. 

Dimitri tilted his head, his smile feral and dangerous. Dedue’s devotion paused, eyes clear and twinkling bright in the night. The force of both of them enough to freeze time and still Ashe’s rapid heart. 

“Never,” Dimitri said. 

“Never?” Ashe whispered. 

“There was never someone who caught our eye.” Dimitri ran a cool finger down the back of Ashe’s cheek. “There is not an abundance of interesting beautiful men with wandering eyes. We knew immediately that we wanted you. And we had a hunch that you wanted the same?

Is that true?” 

Dimitri’s hands slid up the back of his shirt. Dedue’s found his stomach and traced over his belly button. There was a mouth nibbling at his ear, another kissing his lips. There were so many hands and heat and touch. 

“Yes,” Ashe said, putting open Dimitri’s jacket and sliding a hand over his chest. 

“Yes,” Ashe whispered, running a hand over the bulge in Dedue’s jeans just to hear him moan. 

“Yes!” 

Dimitri hummed, picking up the work that Dedue had left and shimmying Ashe’s jeans down his hips. 

“You like to touch huh?” he rumbled quietly, letting his teeth rake over the bump in Ashe’s neck, exposed with his head thrown back. “We’d like to touch you.” 

Ashe’s jeans fell to the rock with a whump, collapsing in a heap. He kicked them off, getting stuck on his shoes, shaking each leg. Dimitri gave his ass a sharp smack and he yelped, the sound of both echoing over the desert. 

“Get on the bike,” Dimitri ordered. 

“On the. . .?” Ashe asked blearily. 

“The Ducati,” Dedue said, gently guiding Ashe to Dimitri’s intimidating machine. 

He moved Ashe like a doll, coaxing him to lift one leg over the bike, to slide all the way back, to lean forward and drape himself over the seat. Straddled and exposed. Ashe held onto the body, looking nervously over his shoulder, feet tiptoed on the ground. His cock hard and sandwiched between soft leather and his stomach. He watched as Dimitri pulled out a single use lube packet from his jacket pocket. 

“Spread him open,” Dimitri told Dedue and it sounded like an order. 

“Yes, highness,” Dedue said. 

“Highness?” Ashe asked. 

“Its what he likes to call me.” Dimitri crouched down, bringing himself to eye level with Ashe at the side of the bike. “At least in bed.” 

“Should I call you that?” Ashe asked. 

Dimitri brought his finger up and tapped Ashe’s lower lip. He dragged the flesh back and forth, distorting Ashe’s mouth, exposing his teeth, inspecting him like a prized animal. 

“Only if you want to,” he said. “Is there anything you’d like to be called?” 

Anything. Everything. Whatever they wanted him to be he would do it. If it only kept their attention on him. If they wanted him a certain way, they could have it. 

“Pretty,” Ashe said and threw back his head in a moan. 

A stiff finger gently eased its way into the tight of Ashe’s exposed ass. It had been sometime since anything other than his own hand had been up there and the exploratory probing proved to hit Ashe in the most secretive erotic spaces of his mind. 

A gloved finger made his way into his mouth, then a second, hooking behind his teeth and opening his jaw. He groaned around them, spread open for the two men, moaning like an animal in heat. He pushed back against the finger, rubbing his cock for friction. 

“Now now pet,” Dimitri said, placing a firm on the small of his back, holding him still. “There will be time for that later.” 

Ashe whimpered around the fingers in his mouth, filled with the distinct taste of fine leather.

A second finger slid into his ass. His feet quivered, trying to keep himself upright, legs shaking as Dedue’s fingers scissored and spread. As they pushed against the ring of muscle and coaxed him to ease. 

“How does he feel?” Dimitri asked, playing with Ashe’ tongue. 

“Tight, your highness,” Dedue said. “Tense. He refuses to relax.” 

“Uuunngg,” Ashe groaned, eyes rolling back. His fingers squealed as his hands pulled along the plastic body. 

“Tch, now that won’t do.” Dimitri regrettably let go of Ashe’s tongue. He pat Ashe’s cheek and Ashe winced more out of surprise than anything else. 

Finger by finger, Dimitri pulled a glove off his hand. He let the leather garment drop heavy onto the small of Ashe’s back. 

“You’ll just have to relax for us Ashe,” Dimitri said from behind. 

Ashe breathed out slowly, the exhale shaking. He closed his eyes and tried to shake out his shoulders. His legs sagged, going boneless, as he accepted the fingers loosely into his ass. As the scissoring in and out that picked up speed became his whole world. 

It was the third finger sliding in, squishing and slipping with more lube, that shocked Ashe back to his sense. He gasped, his head jolting up and his back arching, pushing once more against the dirt floor of the desert. His head whipped as he looked over his shoulder. 

Dimitri had joined Dedue in fingering Ashe. They stood side by side, two dark statues in the night, hands aligned to pleasure Ashe just right. 

“Hush, Ashe,” Dimitri cooed, running his still gloved hand over the swell of Ashe’s ass, raised just for him to touch. “Relax.” 

His fingers kneaded and molded, groping whatever they wished to feel. 

“Dedue, if you would?” Dimitri asked. 

There was a soft grunt in acknowledgement and Ashe felt that big hand snake its way up his spine. His shirt was pushed up, his bare back exposed to the night sky. Until he reached Ashe’s shoulder, half draped over his body, and pushed his fingers into the back of Ashe’s neck. Massaging and kneading as Dimitri’s hand had his ass. The two of them soothing him down like some frightened animal. 

It was working. 

“How many fingers can you take, pet?” Dimitri asked, deep and there was no way Ashe couldn’t answer that. 

Ashe choked, eyes closed and open mouthed. Dedue’s fingers pulsated around his neck, coaxing out an answer. 

“. . . more,” he whimpered. 

“As you wish,” Dimitri said and Ashe could feel another invader spreading him wide. His next cry keened and he yearned to buck back against their combined fingers, but he knew better. He huffed out quick breaths trying to acclimate. 

They worked in tandem, the two of them pushing in and out in alternating synchronizations. Dimitri would go in and Dedue would spread him just shy of leaving. Dedue would rut his fingers all the way in and Dimitri would twist his. It got to the point where Ashe couldn’t tell who belonged to what. A strain pulled on his ass as Dimitri spread him wider. 

“Look at how stuffed he is,” Dimitri said, ramming his fingers all the way in to the knuckle. “Did you want to fill him?” 

Dedue didn’t sound much better than Ashe did. Restrained and grunting, heavy breaths puffing out his nose. 

“Yes, highness,” he said, whining pathetically. “Yes I would.” 

Dimitri’s fingers pulled out and Ashe sobbed at the loss. His head thunked against the plastic of the bike, hitting the fuel gauge.

“Do us all a favor then, Dedue,” Dimitri said, tapping Ashe’s ass in more increasing hits, probably to hear him squeak and to watch the skin ripple. “And fill him up.” 

Dedue was far more gentle, as he was with everything, when he extracted himself. Ashe listened to the symphony of a zipper opening, of a belt buckle clinking, of a package being delicately ripped open. He panted, his chest heaving, already fully fucked out from only fingers. His ass gripped for something, anything, to fill the stretched out empty space that they had left. 

Fingers in his hair tightened and pulled his head up from the bike, forcing him to look up at Dimitri. Ashe panted, open mouthed, and didn’t notice he was drooling until Dimitri’s thumb swiped it away. 

His hips were pulled up the bike and a dick rubbed against the split of his ass, circling his hole. 

“Ask nicely, Ashe,” Dimitri said. 

Even under the grip Dimitri’s hand had on his hair, Ashe could still turn his head to look over his shoulder. At Dedue, who stood with one hand on his hip, the other holding his cock, looking just as stoic as ever, but Ashe could see the cracks. The wideness of his eyes, the quiet plea he held there. 

“Please fuck me,” Ashe whimpered. “Please.” 

Dedue’s mouth opened, his eyes widened, practically looking afraid. Without looking away from Ashe’s open and bare face, Dedue pushed against the still tight strain of his hole. Ashe kept what sight he could on the man who fucked him, mouth opening wide to let out a long loud groan that lasted the length of Dedue’s dick as it crawled inside him. 

“Thats it pretty boy,” Dimitri cooed. “You can be as loud as you like out here.” 

There was no amount of prep Ashe could have taken to accept Dedue’s dick. It was thick and wide and long. A fat tool that spread Ashe all the wider. He wanted to hide, to hunch his back, _to rut back into Dedue_ , but the strict hand on his hair pulled his head up higher. A proud little pet for his highness. Ashe’s mouth held open wide but no sound came out for the soft little squeals in the back of his throat.

Dedue’s other hand came to curl around his hip, holding Ashe like he would a porcelain doll. 

“Fuck him,” Dimitri ordered. 

Sans his usual care, Dedue thrust forward mightily and shuddered the bike. Ashe’s eyes snapped wide, all sounds truly gone from his throat, the breath gone from his lungs. 

“Again,” Dimitri said. 

Another strong thrust and DImitri’s bike squeaked on its kickstand. 

Ashe squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth hanging open, trying to remember how to breath. A thumb brushed against his lip again. 

“Sing for me pretty boy,” Dimitri said, voice velveteen soft. 

On the next harsh thrust, Dedue hit hard enough to crack the sound of flesh on flesh, dragged Ashe back to meet his hips, and Ashe screamed into the night. 

“Yes!” he yelled. “Yes yes please yes.” 

“Good boy,” Dimitri purred and it only added to Ashe’s raging arousal. 

Dimitri rose to his feet, releasing Ashe’s hair and letting his head flop back onto the bike. His face rubbed up and down across the plastic as Dedue found his rhythm, fucking into him with steady even strides. The bike rocked back and forth with each fuck, threateneing to fall off its percarious perch, but it never did. Ashe’s toes slid back and forth across the sand, leaving grooves in the dirt. 

With Dimitri standing in front of him, Ashe’s line of sight became dominated with the bulge in dark jeans. Ashe reached out weakly, his hand hitting against his thigh, too concerned with his own balance to truly link his fingers into belt loops and pull him closer. 

“Whats that pet?” Dimitri taunted. 

“I want. . .” Ashe panted. “I want. . . I want you . . .” 

“Did you want me in your mouth, Ashe?” 

Ashe looked up at Dimitri with big eyes, his face not leaving the bike and his mouth sloppily moving across it. From behind him he heard Dedue whimper. 

“Yes,” he hissed. “Oh please yes.” 

Dimitri’s smooth hand stroked back his hair and Ashe’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned into the touch. 

“Greedy boy,” Dimitri said, but it was full of fondness. 

But the sound of a zipper opening was like the heavens opening up and Ashe looked through hazy eyes to see Dimitri pull his cock out of his pants. Beautiful and arched and Ashe had to have it in him. He managed to sit up just enough, to angle his head just right, to open his mouth as Dimitri lined them up. He groaned at the precum that was bitter on his tongue, the way the head and shaft filled his mouth just right, letting it sit fat and swollen on his tongue. 

Dimitri pet back his hair again. 

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he Dedue?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Dedue panted, not sounding much better than Ashe. He rut hard into Ashe again, the bike squealing again, losing himself again. “Highness.” 

Ashe wanted to show how good he was, not just at taking it but at giving. He bobbed his head, swirled his tongue, tried to find some kind of finesse, but it was difficult to do with so much stimulation around him. With Dedue’s thick cock ramming into his tightest of spaces. With Dimitri’s approving hand stroking his hair like an animal. He slipped and fumbled, gagging as he fell. 

“Shh its alright,” Dimitri said and wrapped a steady hand around the back of his head. “I have you, you don’t need to worry.” 

He worked his cock deeper into Ashe’s mouth, holding him still as a perfect little cock sleeve. Ashe huffed out his nose, whining as Dimitri took him deeper, until his nose pressed against the zipper of Dimitri’s pants. He drooled around the dick in his mouth and coughed when it twitched in the back of his throat. 

Dimitri groaned and let his head rock back, the first sign of him losing any of the fine tuned control he had over the entire evening. The same control he had when he rode his bike. 

“His mouth is fantastic,” Dimitri moaned. 

“As is his. . . ugh,” Dedue said, his hips stuttering. “He’s amazing.” 

Dimitri’s hand shook, the cracks in his foundation showing. He pressed a little too hard, locking Ashe against him. Ashe looked up at him with large wide eyes, the corners of them wettening from lack of air. He saw Dimitri’s attention elsewhere. His eyes were wide and manic and he licked his lips. 

“. . . switch places with me Dedue,” he said after some consideration. “I am very anxious to give him a test drive.” 

Dedue whined, burying himself fully into Ashe, not wanting to leave. He wriggled his hips against Ashe’s, making his ass shake, his fingers gripping tight enough that Ashe was sure he would be able to break bone. He huffed out a harsh exhale and pulled out with regret. 

“As his highness wishes,” Dedue said sorrowfully. 

A guttural noise of loss groaned in the back of Ashe’s throat and transformed into a series of coughs as Dimitri slid out. Ashe bowed his head, his mouth feeling of wet and his tongue pressing to his soft palette. 

Dedue was at his side not a moment later, crouched where Dimitri’s cock had been. He cupped Ashe’s face, all the support Ashe would need to hold his head up. 

“Are you doing alright?” Dedue asked. 

Ashe had it in him to smile still. Shaky and weak, eyes hazed over and filled with lust. Words would not come to him and he could only nod in Dedue’s hands. Dedue swiped away a bit of drool, cleaning Ashe up of his own filth. He looked to behind the bike, where Dimitri stood waiting for confirmation that it was okay to go on. 

With permission granted, one gloved hand and one bare steadied Ashe’s hips and a new cock slid into him with zero resistance. Having been stretched out by Dedue’s gargantuan member, Ashe was primed and ready to accept whatever Dimitri had to give him. 

They slotted together like puzzle pieces. Dimitri leaned all the way over his back, straddling the bike with Ashe, rutting into him. He snarled like an animal, raking his teeth over Ashe’s skin, fucking him with a much harshe ferocity than the pounding Dedue gave him. 

Ashe gasped for air, a bouncing whine on his breath with every thrust. He slid up and down the bike, pleading and desperate eyes on Dedue. 

“Beautiful,” Dedue said, hushed and in awe. “You’re doing so well.” 

His thumb slid into Ashe’s mouth, pulling at his lips. Ashe’s eyes rolled back in his head from the praise, unable to worship the digit that pressed against his tongue, only able to be fucked. 

Hands slowly guided Ashe’s own up the bike, lifting his arms, until his fingers wrapped around the grips. He was positioned, his fingers primed around the throttle, and he could only stare as he was posed into prime riding position. He could only stare as Dedue’s hand came up and switched on the ignition. 

A great beast beneath him roared to life, snarling as its engines turned over and shook the bike. Ashe wailed, feeling the vibrations of the machine against his cock. His toes curled, one foot going up on the pedal on instinct. 

“Do you like that, Ashe?” a thrusting Dimitri said against his back, just barely heard over the roar of the engine. “Do you like my bike?” 

Ashe sobbed. He was rut against it, rubbed against the leather of the seat with each pounding thrust, fucked against the motorcycle. Taken away from the loneliness of the nothing in the middle of nowhere and given the freedom of the open road, granted all by Dimitri’s cock. 

Those careful gentle hands lifted his head again and quieted Ashe’s sobs with a kiss. Ashe moaned into Dedue’s mouth, his body going slack as he let the men do as they will with him. His mind reeled and swirled, disappearing deeper and deeper into a void. 

Where he rode with them. Where they rode him. Where the world was opened to Ashe, wide and waiting and full of possibility. 

A great hand covered Ashe’s hand and pulled on the throttle. The Ducati _roared_ into the night, a great rumble that stripped all other sound from the world and left nothing but the violent shudder of the engines, exhaust, and speed. 

Ashe called into Dedue’s mouth and soiled the leather. His cock pounded against the vibrations of the bike, shaking him to his core. His heart stuttered in his chest, his ribcage fluttered. His dick was stimulated to its very edges until it could take no more. Dimitri doubled his efforts, fucking into Ashe not for his own pleasure but to fiercely shove him up and down the bike. Groaning and whining and taking Ashe for all he was worth. 

When Ashe’s screams died down into something more painful, Dedue had the good graces to switch the motorcycle to off. Dimitri huffed hard through exertion and restraint and pulled out of Ashe. Pliant and defeated, Ashe lolled against the bike, heavy eyes staring at Dedue’s own proud smile. He listened to the keens of Dimitri behind him and it wasn’t long before he felt cum spurt against his ass. 

Ashe’s arms hung like jelly, boneless and limp on either side of the bike. He couldn’t remember his legs. The desert opened up like a haze in front of him, the night sky nothing but a blur of darkened color with a spec of city light so far off in the distance it was inconsequential. Dedue smiled before him, stroking his face, content to simply be there. 

Dimitri’s boots crunched on the dirt, the sound of his zipper flying back into place harsh in the quiet of their aftermath. He tapped Dedue’s shoulder twice. 

“Stand up,” he commanded. 

Dedue looked up to his highness, loyal to a fault, and Ashe had a sneaking suspicion that the man would do as Dimitri said, no matter the request. 

Dedue rose to his feet, cock still hard and bobbing. A monster of a dick and Ashe had the vague thought _’I took that?’_ as if his body had belonged to another for just a moment. Looking back over the marathon he had just run without the conscious thought being put into each step. 

Dimitri held out his hand and Ashe, like Dedue, would always do as he asked. 

“Can you help me finish Dedue off?” he asked. “Do you have it in you, sweet one?” 

Ashe didn’t answer. He merely let gravity do as it will to his body and slunk heavy off the bike, his knees hitting the ground, his palms in the dirt. Breath came heavy and rattled his lungs, and he raised one heavy arm to take Dimitri’s hand. 

“You don’t have to,” Dimitri insisted. 

Filled with determination, Ashe looked up at Dedue’s face, filled with concern and echoing Dimitri’s sentiment. His crawl had a quality of a limp as he shuffled to Dedue and his dick. He braced himself against Dedue’s hip, leaning in close. 

“I want to,” he said hushed and took the cock head into his mouth. 

It tasted of him and stretched out his cheeks. Ashe closed his eyes, letting the heat and width of the dick fill his mouth. He moaned, dropping into a sleepy content state to suckle his second cock of the evening. 

He was utterly spoiled. 

Dimitri was at his side, also going to his knees. Without looking, he could feel the smile bask down on him, he could hear the sharp intake of breath from above him. Dimitri’s strong hand cupped the back of his head once more, but only to hold Ashe, not to push or pull him anywhere. 

“Oh that is a lovely sight,” Dimitri cooed, watching Ashe bob up and down the cock. “Is that what I look like, Dedue?” 

“Not. . . not quite your highness,” Dedue said, his hand joining Dimitri’s to rifle through Ashe’s hair. “Not quite.” 

Dimitri hummed with thoughtful consideration and Ashe could feel him near. He felt a tongue hit his lips as Dimitri took over the rest of Dedue’s shaft that Ashe couldn’t quite fit into his mouth. Dedue sounded damn well near choking. When Ashe opened his eyes, he saw that Dedue had placed a hand on Dimitri’s crown, blessing them both with his gentle touch. 

Ashe pulled off the dick, turning to take the other side of it to share with Dimitri. He looked up at Dedue and wondered what they must have looked at to cause such an expression on the big man’s face. Two men at his feet, worshiping his cock, eyes big as they gazed upon him. The two of them running their tongues up and down his dick, colliding into one another every so often, open mouthed kisses pressed against one another. 

Ideas swirled through Ashe’s blank mind and he slid further down. He could tell Dimitri had picked up where he left off, far more experienced to handle Dedue’s dick than Ashe’s first attempt. But Ashe found his own pleasure in taking Dedue’s sack into his mouth. It recoiled as Dedue gasped, but Ashe suckled, tongued it, wrapped his lips around it. He closed his eyes and enveloped himself in the scent of Dedue. 

It wasn’t long before Dedue’s hands curled in his hair, pulling at the strands. His breath hitched, no sound of the tone of his voice, just the suck in of air. It was pure silence when he came. Dimitri diligently worked to swallow everything that Dedue gave him, careful not to spill a drop. 

Ashe fell back to his heels, watching the two men pleasure one another in a blissful harmony that they chose to share with him on that quiet night under the stars. 

Ashe closed his eyes, exhausted long before Dedue was finished, and wondered if he would be able to stay upright long enough to get back to the hotel. 

_____

Dedue made for an excellent pillow. 

It was well into the small hours of the morning and Ashe woke up. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately and after the night he had, he had expected to go down and stay down, but no such luck. At least that time when he woke up, there was something lovely to lay his head upon. 

A warm body and a soft chest. Slowly rising and falling with each gentle breath like waves. An arm wrapped around him that was nothing but pure comfort and protection. Curled up in a bed that wasn’t his but still Ashe felt like he belonged. Every shred of loneliness chased away into the shadows. 

He tried not to think about the moments when they would return. 

Ashe looked over at the man on the other side of Dedue, nestled under his other arm, using the other shoulder as his own personal pillow. Dimitri had long since learned the secrets of Dedue’s comfort long before Ashe had discovered them on his own. Ashe felt a small pang of jealousy, that Dimitri got that comfort every day. That Dedue got to wake up and see that face every morning. 

Ashe smiled to himself and enjoyed the moment quietly. In the morning they would be gone. And Ashe would still be at the diner, counting cars on the highway. 

He stroked down the center of Dedue’s chest, chasing away his thoughts through the details in his definition. Taking in every crevice and committing it to memory for when he was alone on a quiet night. 

A large hand covered his, fingers slowly entwining with his own, stilling what was a nervous fidget. Ashe looked up to see the one clear eye staring back at him, glowing neon in the night. 

Dimitri had taken off his patch, more bare before Ashe than the stripped down nudity he wore underneath the sheets. Where had once been his second good eye was a ravaged landscape, since healed up poorly, a criss cross of scar tissue that puckered and pulled, but did nothing to diminish his beauty. He stared calmly at Ashe. 

They had returned to the room that Dedue and Dimitri had rented, their appetites not yet sated. They continued to explore one another, finding new and interesting ways to make Ashe cry out. To make him fall and rise and slip into their arms and never want to leave. Bathed and cleaned but still so dirty, they had crawled into bed together and Ashe had promptly passed out. 

As much as his alertness had been a surprise, Dimitri’s has been double that. 

“Did I wake you?” Ashe whispered, not wanting to disturb his pillow. 

Dimitri shook his head. He stroked the back of Ashe’s hand. It wasn’t a possessive touch, he had done plenty of that over the course of the evening, but soft and somber. Soothing, but not for Ashe. 

The scrutiny Dimitri had over Ashe was heavy enough to weigh him back against the bed. He held still for Dimitri, allowed him to take in whatever he needed. For his own quiet nights. 

Dimitri nestled in closer under Dedue’s arm, sighing as he came to his conclusion. 

“Come with us,” he said. 

Ashe’s eyes blinked open, the sleep fading from them fast. Slowly, he lifted his head from his resting place to look down at Dimitri, wondering if he was still asleep. 

“I’m sorry,” Ashe said, still whispering. “What was that?” 

“Come with us,” Dimitri repeated. 

Ashe looked at the man he shared a bed with. Staring down his one good eye. He laughed once, disbelieving and incredulous. 

“I–,” he started to say. 

“Do you want to stay here?” Dimitri asked. 

“No,” Ashe said. “But–” 

“But what?” 

It wasn’t a jab, it wasn’t an insult, it wasn’t a challenge. Dimitri looked at Ashe with genuine question, as anticipatory on Ashe’s answer, scared of disappointment and hopeful that Ashe would say yes. In the dark, Dimitri lacked his usual confident swagger, and he looked to Ashe with a different quality than he had the whole time Ashe had known him. 

Vulnerable. 

“My bike,” Ashe tried. 

“Is fine to ride,” Dimitri said. 

Ashe looked around the room, looking for some reason he couldn’t just get up and go. A reason why he shouldn’t leave with these two beautiful strangers. How this simply didn’t make sense, how things like this didn’t happen to people. How it was a bad idea and it was wrong. 

“You’re running out of excuses,” Dimitri said, nerves tinging his laughter. 

The soft rise and fall beneath Ashe had stopped. He looked up to Dedue, eyes open but heavy, watching and waiting on Ashe’s answer. As tense as Dimitri was, both of them hanging on his every word. The two men that had so thoroughly wrapped themselves into Ashe’s life and had proven they could do whatever they wanted with him gave him a sudden amount of power. 

Ashe sighed and settled back down on his pillow. He held onto Dimitri’s hand, running his thumb over his knuckles. 

“Okay,” he said softly. 

Dimitri’s smile twitched on his lips. He said nothing, only closed his eye and nuzzled into Dedue’s side. The strong arm that wrapped around Ashe tightened and Dedue sighed. He settled his body deeper into the pillows, a content draping over the big man. Ashe closed his eyes. 

It was easy to fall back asleep. 

____

Annette held on tight, almost like she wasn’t going to let go. Ashe was starting to lose the ability to breathe. 

“And you’ll call right?” she asked, squeezing tighter. 

“Yes,” Ashe wheezed, gently patting her back. “Every chance I get.” 

“And send me postcards, okay?” 

“I promise,” Ashe laughed. “But you have to let me go first.” 

Annette whined in his ear and didn’t let go. 

“Are you sure?” she asked in a hushed whisper. 

Ashe looked over her shoulder into the parking lot. The Triumph and the Ducati were parked next to one another, their owners leaned up against them and talking amicably amongst themselves. 

A little Harley stood beside them, waiting for its rider. 

“Yes,” Ashe said. 

Annette finally relinquished her grip and held Ashe out at a literal arms length. She looked over her shoulder at the two men who were whisking her precious line cook away then back to Ashe. She sighed heavily. 

“Well if you’re sure, I’m sure,” she said. 

“Holy shit, she’s taking this harder than I am,” Christophe said from the booth in the corner. “I mean, I’m the big brother, shouldn’t I be the protective one?” 

“You’re just defective,” Annette said, sticking her tongue out at him. 

Christophe held a hand over his heart in mock dismay. 

“I’ll be fine,” Ashe reassured both of them, not for the first time. “I promise.” 

“I know you will,” Christophe said, standing up. “Of course you will.” 

The second one sounded more like he was trying to convince himself and he wrapped his arms around Ashe, resting his chin atop his head. He squeezed, with less vigor than Annette, but still with a long goodbye, without sorrow, but still, a goodbye. Ashe returned it. 

“Remember to tune up ever 100 miles,” Christophe said. 

“Okay,” Ashe laughed. 

“And remember that the torque pulls so don’t go to fast around corners.” 

“Okay okay I got it.” 

Christophe let go of his little brother, taking a step back, and placing both hands on his shoulders. He stared at Ashe for a long moment, examining and assessing him, before clapping his hands on his shoulders. 

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” he said one last time, filled with more confidence than Ashe could ever have. Christophe ruffled his hair. “I’ll see you around kid.” 

Ashe just laughed and accepted it. 

With one last goodbye to his family and friends, Ashe scooped up his bag and stepped out into the desert sun. Whatever Dimitri and Dedue had been talking about, they paused to watch Ashe come out. Intimidating in their leathers, Ashe looked mismatched in his denim. He approached his bike without fully acknowledging them, smiling to himself, and fixed his bag to the side. He threw one leg over, finally feeling right straddled on his Harley. Feeling like he owned it, like he owned the road. 

Like he was ready. 

“Ready to go?” Dimitri asked, arms crossed and amused. 

Ashe said nothing. He put on his helmet and revved his motorcycle. 

One by one, they peeled out of the parking lot and drove off into the sunset.

**Author's Note:**

> I JUST WANTED ASHE TO GET FUCKED ON A MOTORCYCLE OKAY!? I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS
> 
> Twitter: [OhNo_Hello](https://twitter.com/OhNo_Hello)  
> Tumblr: [ScrumpyLikesThings](https://scrumpylikesthings.tumblr.com/)


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